


Home Is Wherever I'm With You

by okaynextcrisis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 06:17:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaynextcrisis/pseuds/okaynextcrisis
Summary: Boarding school teacher Qui-Gon brings left-behind-for-the-holidays student Obi-Wan home to his old friend Tahl's house for Thanksgiving, and reminisces about a unique childhood experience are shared.





	

“Sorry I’m late,” were, unsurprisingly, the first words out of Qui-Gon Jinn’s mouth when Tahl opened the door on Thanksgiving afternoon.

“You’re not, I lied and told you we were eating an hour early,” she said calmly, leaning against the doorframe. 

She could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Didn’t I tell you it would be fine?” 

From his tone, and the tilt of his head, slightly away from her, she knew he was talking to someone else, the second set of footsteps, lighter than his, she had heard coming up the stone path to the house.  She waited.

Qui-Gon didn’t let her down.  “Tahl,” he said, guiding the second body closer to her, “this is my friend Obi-Wan.  I told him you wouldn’t mind if he tagged along.”

“If you’re sure it won’t be a problem,” a higher (mid-teens, she guessed) male voice said, his cultured accent suggesting that homemade stuffing on her cracked and worn wooden table might not be quite the holiday experience to which he was accustomed. 

It wasn’t; with Qui-Gon Jinn, one learned early on to expect the unexpected. 

She smiled warmly, holding out her hand to allow him to shake it.  (Long experience had taught her that it helped people who would otherwise be unsure how to react to her.)  A good grip; skin a little clammy.  Nervous, she expected, as people unused to being caught up in Qui’s last-minute impulses often were.

"Not at all," she assured him.  "One year Qui rolled up two days after Thanksgiving with a traveling Renaissance troupe for me to feed."

"And you did," Qui-Gon argued cheerfully. 

Tahl stretched out her other hand, pulling Qui-Gon inside by the lapels of his coat, worn smooth by age and long use.  She let her hand linger, drifting upwards to take in the stubble of close-cropped beard, the coarseness of the hair above his lip, the new creases in the smooth expanse of his high forehead.  Her fingers grazed his hairline, playing with the new growth of longer hair, below his collarbone, now.

She tilted her head a little, considering.  “I like the long hair,” she decided.

“I grew it out especially for you,” Qui-Gon said, pressing a kiss to her cheek.  If there was a slight flush to her skin, her new guest was too polite to mention it.

"We were just about to sit down," she said, leading her last guests into the dining room, where everyone else was already seated. 

"Obi-Wan," she said, taking her seat at the end of the table, "this is my neighbor Mace, my publisher, Luminara, and her daughter, Barriss."

She didn’t bother pointing them out as she named them; she could tell where they were seated from the sounds of their voices, but the effort felt less like a helpful gesture and more like an outdated magic trick. Tahl had done enough of that in her day.

“Obi-Wan, I take it you’re one of Qui’s students?” she prompted, once everyone had helped themselves to the food.

“I’m in his History of American Politics class,” Obi-Wan replied, pronouncing his words carefully around what she guessed was a mouthful of turkey. 

“I always thought Qui would make a good teacher, given his historic inclination to telling people what to think," she observed.

“And I always thought you were a natural writer, given your passionate love of your own voice,” Qui-Gon shot back cheerfully. 

She’d missed him.

“And you and Mr. Jinn…grew up together?” Obi-Wan ventured.  “Were you…”

She broke in before the poor boy could stumble over the complexities of their relationship.  Having never actually seen her childhood companion, she had no opinion on the differences in their appearances, but given the generally confused reaction to that sentence, she guessed that it was a marked one.

“Qui-Gon and I were raised together in a back-to-nature commune in the seventies called the Temple of Loving Community,” Tahl explained.  “We lived off the land, without modern conveniences, and all the kids were raised communally, with no last names, instead of in family units.”

“That sounds…lovely,” Obi-Wan said doubtfully, in a tone that suggested that he’d rather be shot dead.

“It had its moments,” Qui-Gon allowed.  “There was a magical freedom to our childhood…we woke with the sun, and the Temple owned acres and acres of farmland, so we could roam all day long, swimming and climbing trees and chasing squirrels…and no one ever told us what to do, or how to be…”

“How did you go to school, then?” Obi-Wan asked, apparently unable to resist his curiosity. 

“The Temple didn’t believe in organized education,” Tahl answered. 

“Or modern medicine,” Qui-Gon added.  “Or taxes…”

“The government did eventually take an interest in that last one," Tahl said wryly.  "And then they took exception to a few other aspects of Temple life, like the acreage devoted to less-than-legal crops, or the preventable childhood diseases, or the fact that none of us could add..."

“But we could roll a joint better than anyone,” Qui-Gon pointed out.

“It’s true, you can’t say we weren’t educated,” Tahl agreed. 

A strangled cough came from Barriss’s side of the table, something that might have been a smothered giggle.  It stopped abruptly; Luminara must have shushed her. 

"What happened?"  Obi-Wan asked, clearly rapt.

"They shut us down, and a few people went to jail, and the rest of us got sent off to foster homes and court-mandated therapy sessions," Qui-Gon replied.  She could hear the clank of the metal spoon against her favorite ceramic bowl as he helped himself to more mashed potatoes. 

"And _so_ much back homework, you would not believe,” she added, smoothing over the next part in the story, about the people she’d never heard from again, and the hand-wringing of doctors who all wanted to know why nothing had been done about her eyes when she was an infant, when her blindness would have been treatable.    

"Anyway," she said, changing tack, "have you been at the Coruscant Academy long, Obi-Wan?"

"Just since September," he answered, sounding distinctly less chipper than when discussing her odd childhood. 

"Obi-Wan's parents are in the diplomatic corps," Qui-Gon explained.  "This is his third high school."

Tahl didn't envy him. 

"I'm used to it," Obi-Wan said quickly.  "But I really like CA so far. The library's much better than at my last school."  He paused, as though still making up his mind, then added, "And at least there's electricity.  And the government probably won't shut us down."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Qui-Gon muttered to her, under laughter around the table. 

"It's all about perspective," Tahl said to Obi-Wan, dryly. 

"I don't see why you won't write a memoir," Luminara put in.  "It'd be a bestseller, and you know it."

"I'll stick with fiction, thanks," Tahl said mildly.  "Qui, you want to write a memoir?"

"Not in the least," he said cheerfully.

Luminara's sigh was audible. 

“There would probably be legal action from somebody left the Temple, anyway," Tahl added.  "Mace, if I got sued, would you represent me?"

"No," his deep voice rumbled.  "I would not.  You'd make a terrible client.  And you always forget to pay your bills."

There was more laughter. 

If there was anything Tahl missed from her past, it was this: everyone gathered together, sharing a meal, enjoying each other's company...

The running water was a nice addition, though. 

She got to her feet.  “The pies should be about ready,” she said.  ”Time for dessert."

"I'll help," Qui-Gon offered, following her out into the kitchen, his footsteps soft on the tile behind her. 

Tahl hated the way people leapt to their feet when anything needed to be done, sure she couldn't manage on her own.  Luminara, Barriss, and Mace, in their different ways, had all had to learn to resist the impulse.  But Qui-Gon, who had known her longer than anyone, had always known how to help. 

"Thank you for letting me bring Obi-Wan," he said quietly as he sliced the pie.  "He's had a hard time adjusting this year, and you know how difficult it is when everyone else has families to go home to."

Tahl rested her hand on his larger one, still curved around the knife.  "Why don't you bring him by some weekend?" she suggested.  "I'm sure we can wrestle up something educational for him to do."

"I'm sure he'd love that," Qui-Gon said.  He paused.  "I might not mind getting out here a little more often, myself."

Something fluttered in her chest, and she ignored it.  "Then I'll expect you a week late, holding a stray dog, and needing an extra bed," she said calmly. 

His warm lips ghosted against her forehead, barely brushing her skin.  "I'll try not to disappoint."

There might, Tahl reflected as they served the pie, be something else she missed about her past, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros.


End file.
